Masaaki Yuasa’s Inu-Oh Review
The latest in distributor Anime Limited’s 2022 Cinema Matsuri initiative, Inu-Oh follows the UK release of Pompo the Cinephile (which unfortunately didn’t show in any of my local cinemas), Fortune Favors Lady Nikuko and The Deer King. Anime Limited also held a limited nationwide screening of both recent Free! movies, and they’re distributing the upcoming One Piece: Red movie, too. Along with Crunchyroll’s Dragonball Super: Super Hero and their upcoming release of Makoto Shinkai’s Suzume no Tojimari, 2022’s shaped up to be a great year for seeing anime on the big screen. I’m hoping that Atsuko Ishizuka’s (A Place Further than the Universe) new movie Goodbye, Don Glees! gets a wider release soon, after it premiered at the Edinburgh Film Festival back in August. Of course October’s annual Scotland Loves Anime film festival looks to have a great lineup too.
Inu-Oh is directed by Masaaki Yuasa, the man responsible for incredible anime like The Tatami Galaxy, The Night is Short, Walk on Girl, Devilman Crybaby, Ride Your Wave and Keep Your Hands Off Eizouken! His recent work is produced by the studio he helped found — Science Saru — who were also responsible for 2021’s acclaimed historical TV anime series The Heike Story, which shares the same source material as Inu-Oh: the Tales of the Heike novels by Japanese author Hideo Furukawa.
Adapted from The Tale of the Heike, a Kamakura period (1185–1333) monogatari (epic story) about the fall of the formerly powerful Taira (also known as Heike) clan, Furukawa’s novels update the archaic text into modern Japanese. Yuasa embellishes the novel yet further, adding fantasy and marked anachronisms, transforming a story of friendship between a young, blind biwa player and a deformed dancer into a spectacular medieval rock opera.
To get the most out of Inu-Oh, it’s probably best to have at least some knowledge of medieval Japanese history. Along with the Fujiwara, Tachibana, and Minamoto (Genji) clans, the Taira (Heike) clan were one of the four dominant forces in Japanese politics from the Heian period (794–1185) through to the beginning of the Muromachi period (1336).
Inu-Oh frequently references The Battle of Dan-no-ura (1185), a major sea battle of the Genpei War where the Heike’s last leader, the young Emperor Antoku, and his army, was destroyed by the opposing Genji clan. During the battle, the Three Sacred Treasures (the imperial regalia of Japan) were lost at sea, and little proof exists that they were ever truly recovered. The treasures comprise the sword Kusanagi no Tsurugi (representing valour), the mirror Yata no Kagami (representing wisdom), and the jewel Yasakani no Magatama (representing benevolence).
Three hundred years following the destruction of the Heike clan, during the 14th century in which Inu-Oh is set, stories of their battles have become a popular form of entertainment, put to music and sung by blind biwa-playing monks (a biwa is a type of lute, its strings plucked with a large plectrum called a Bachi instead of with fingers). This is often accompanied by performers who practice a very stylised, restricted, formal type of dance (known during the period as Sangaku, and what would eventually evolve into what we know today as Noh).
As a child, protagonist Tomona lives by the shore where the Heike’s fateful battle occured, and with his father dives to the seafloor to loot the sunken vessels. When a representative of the Genji employs his father to find the sword Kusanagi no Tsurugi, tragedy strikes. Upon retrieving and unsheathing the sword, Tomona’s father is accidentally bisected and killed by the unexpected discharge of power, while Tomona is blinded by the sword’s supernatural radiance. Tomona then happens upon a blind monk who takes him under his wing and teaches him the mastery of Biwa playing.
As an adult, Tomona becomes an accomplished musician and joins a highly regarded Biwa troupe in the capital, changing his name to Tomoichi in reference to his new master’s name. He meets a nameless, deformed boy, the son of the master of a highly respected Sangaku troupe. The boy has only three limbs, one of which is a massively elongated arm, plus his body is covered in scales, and his face hideously malformed. To hide their shame from the world, his abusive family force him to wear a dried gourd as a mask and to keep his body covered at all times.
Tomoichi and the nameless boy (who decides to call himself Inu-Oh) make a profound connection. Together they develop a new kind of music and dance combination, one with new stories provided by the spirits of dead Heike soldiers who haunt Inu-Oh, and that only he can hear. By finally telling their previously lost stories, Inu-Oh can free them from their Earthly bondage, allowing them to finally move on to the afterlife. Freed by their unbridled artistic expression, Tomoichi and Inu-oh take medieval Japan by storm with their avant-garde showmanship, scandalous costumes, and raw, invigorating rock music.
Yeah, I said rock music. The first section of the movie is a fairly slow-moving historical biopic with light supernatural elements, filled with deep-cut references to traditional forms of music and dance. To a non-Japanese viewer it’s an intriguing curiosity, a glimpse into a very foreign world with strange customs and bizarre traditions. And then suddenly Yuasa breaks out the buzzsaw guitars, drums and bass, and suddenly we’re in psychedelic funk-rock land with Tomoichi (who has now changed his name — again — to Tomoari) now having fully grown his hair, sporting lurid makeup, cavorting across the stage while furiously pelvic-thrusting, wearing revealing costumes and screaming aloud to the heavens. His fellow biwa players comment that he “looks, and smells, like a prostitute”. It’s hilarious. The film becomes like a Rolling Stones documentary, but in feudal Japan.
Inu-Oh relishes his new role as flashy frontman, using prosthetic limbs, strange costumes and bizarre masks to dance for an ever-growing, ever-adoring audience, utilising all manner of stagecraft and special effects to conjure a majestic spectacle that would put most modern stadium rock concerts to shame. These extended musical interludes boast utterly stunning visuals, and mixed with a phenomenal soundtrack make this an incredibly memorable experience. I’ve never seen anything quite like it.
In particular, the climax where Inu-Oh and Tomoari play for the shogun and his adoring (of Inu-Oh) wife is transcendentally beautiful, with a wire-suspended dance over a luminescent lake, illuminated by fireworks and accompanied by a neon pink dragon. The animation in this sequence in particular is breathtakingly smooth and evocative, highlighting Inu-Oh’s magically-enhanced body as he glides and rotates through the air. Character designer Taiyo Matsumoto’s (Tekkonkinkreet, Ping Pong) characters aren’t stereotypically beautiful, but they way they move is hypnotic. This does not look at all like your typical anime, it has its own, incredible aesthetic.
It’s not all music video sheen and screaming rock performances though. As befits the time period, life is brutally violent and unfair, and people (especially governments) fear change. Inu-Oh and Tomoari represent that most terrifying type of change — new ideas, and the film pits the fossilised traditional ideology of the ruling class against the exciting, uncontrollable energy of Tomoari’s troupe. Resistance comes not only from other muscians and dancers, and from the shogun himself, but also from Inu-Oh’s bitter and jealous father. The backstory of how Inu-Oh came to be born cursed is heartbreaking, and is very reminiscent of Osamu Tezuka’s 1960s manga Dororo (which itself received a very good anime adaptation from MAPPA in 2019). Both main characters are physically disabled in their own ways, yet fight hard to live life in they way they want, despite their limitations. Such fierce will unfortunately comes with a price.
Although it’s a story steeped in tradional Japanese culture, it’s still accessible to those with almost no knowledge of it. I took my two older children and my brothers to see it, none of whom are overly familiar with medieval Japanese history, and they all thoroughly enjoyed it. Rock music does seem to be truly transcendent across cultures, with its primal beat and joyful noise uniting people through song. If you at all enjoy loud guitars, throbbing rhythms and flashy showmen, then Inu-Oh is the anime movie you’ve been waiting for. See it on a big screen if you can, but if not, don’t miss it when it’s eventually released on home media.
Inu-Oh
Directed by: Masaaki Yuasa
Written by: Akiko Nogi
Character designs by: Taiyo Matsumoto
Music by: Yoshihide Otomo
Based on: Tales of the Heike: Inu-Oh by Hideo Furukawa
Production company: Science SARU
Venice International Film Festival premiere: September 9th, 2021
Japanese cinematic release: May 28th, 2022
UK cinematic release: September 28th, 2022
Runtime: 98 minutes
BBFC rating: 15
For more on other Masaaki Yuasa works, you’ll find some reviews within the articles below:
